


Please just save me from this darkness

by 17 pansies (17pansies)



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: An old fic out of the archives, Angst, Canon deviation, F/M, First Time, Gratuitous use of song lyrics, Minor Character Death, Minor scar kink, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-graphic injuries, Very old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17pansies/pseuds/17%20pansies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bomb goes off.  Tony does what Tony has to do, without thinking of the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please just save me from this darkness

His life was over. Gazing out of the window at 36,000 feet at the steel grey expanse of water below him, Tony finally admitted what he’d known for a while now. It was done. Over. There was no going back from this point and anything he did now would be fruitless and pointless and a waste of time and breath.

Not that he wouldn’t give her his last breath. He’d give her anything. His life, if necessary. His soul.

She had that already though. She had a piece of him so big that he couldn’t imagine going on without her.

How had it come to this? How had he allowed it to happen? More to the point, how could he have done what he had? She was the most important thing in the world to him. He would give up anything, everything, should she just ask it.

Not that she would. He knew that, even if she hated him, and at this point in time, he wouldn’t blame her at all if she never spoke to him again; she would never ask him not to do what he did.

Please just save me from this darkness, he thought, his gaze turning inwards and not liking what he could see at all. Self loathing filled him.

“Mr Stark, we will be landing in twenty minutes.” The crisp, efficient voice of the pilot informed him.

Would she be waiting for him as usual, he wondered. Standing side by side with Hogan, next to the Daimler, Blackberry in hand, ready to inform him of all the things he needed to do…

Of course not. Hogan was dead, the Daimler a distant memory of shredded steel and glass. And Pepper?

If she could ever even bring herself to look at him again, he would be a lucky man.

The plane touched down so smoothly that the untouched Scotch in the crystal glass barely shimmered. He couldn’t bring himself to drink the stuff. The steward had poured it more out of habit than anything else.

Would there be a posse of press out there? He wished more than anything for Rhodey now. He could have pushed the intrusive hacks to one side.

Except Rhodey was in a coma on the other side of the world. Feeling the hollowness in the pit of his stomach threaten to envelope him entirely, Tony got to his feet. A quick glance out of the window, though, told him louder than words that something was wrong. The airfield was deserted.

Stepping out into the last golden flare of the setting sun, Tony looked around. The only sign of life was the small silver Audi sat next to the deserted hangar. Had she arranged for his car to be brought here for him?

“Shall I put your bags in the car, sir?” the steward asked. Nodding, Tony stepped down onto the tarmac and stretched, watching the decommissioned sergeant as he unloaded the plane into the back of the Audi. The man seemed to pause next to the driver’s door for a moment before saluting and heading back towards the plane.

She was in the car, Tony thought, suddenly feeling sick. She shouldn’t even be out of the hospital yet. Grasping what little was left of his courage, he took a deep, shuddering breath and headed towards the R8.

A dozen yards from the car, and the driver’s door opened. He watched with his heart in his throat as two long legs, encased in fitted black trousers emerged, followed by the rest of Pepper in a pale blue blouse and matching black jacket. His breath hitched as he saw her hair. The long, golden tresses that he so adored were gone, and she wore it cropped to chin length. It was fetching, but it changed her face dramatically.

As did the scarring. At first glance, she appeared fine, but he knew her face intimately. He could draw it with his eyes closed, every plane and curve, and his eagle eyes immediately spotted the faintest change in the texture of her skin across the right side of her jaw and up to nearly the corner of her eye. The stylishly cut hair swung forward to cover it as she dipped her head to look at her shoes. Her makeup was clever, but not clever enough to fool him.

“Potts,” he said softly, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets to stop him reaching out to her.

“Mr Stark.” She stepped back from the car. “You can drive.”

Her indifferent tone cut him to pieces on the spot and he felt another bit die inside him. She wouldn’t even meet his eyes.

He’d only done it to protect her, he wanted to scream. Everything he’d done over the past two months had been for her – or rather, to fulfil his own warped perception of what he thought she’d need or want him to do. That someone had dared to hurt her had flicked a switch inside of him that had been impossible to turn off, until they had lain dead at his feet. The body count that had led him to that person was astronomical, but to his fierce protective mind, it was as high as it had needed to be. Even to the extent of endangering the life of his best friend.

It seemed that Pepper’s sensibilities were a little more delicate than his.

Tony slid behind the wheel of the Audi and just stared at the dashboard for a long moment. Was she going to get in the passenger side, or walk off and leave him alone? A moment later, the other door opened and Pepper lowered herself into the plush leather seat. She was a little stiff, he noticed, reaching for the start button.

“Should you even be out of the hospital?” he asked, his mouth moving before his brain was fully engaged.

“Someone has to take responsibility,” she cut back instantly. Tony bit his tongue in an effort not to snarl something back at her, and threw the car around in a squeal of rubber. Pepper seemed to fold in upon herself and it took him a second to realise that he might be frightening her.

Taking another deep breath, he eased back on the accelerator and made a point of sticking to the speed limit all the way home.

At least, to what used to be home. He stopped the car at what had been the top of the access ramp to the workshop and simply stared at the mess.

“Oh my god,” he whispered.

“When they couldn’t find you, they decided to hit what was closest to you,” Pepper informed him. About half the house was still standing, and he figured it might be safe to walk down the ramp a short way, but the far side, the heli pad and main entrance were annihilated.

“Thank god you weren’t here,” he murmured.

“Are you referring to me or to yourself?” Pepper asked curtly.

“You, damnit.” Tony felt like she’d just slapped him. He stopped himself from saying anything else and sighed. “So where do we go from here?”

“Back up the interstate a short way. I took the liberty of finding new accommodation.”

It hadn’t been quite what he’d meant, but he decided to just go along. Following Pepper’s directions, he found himself driving up a long, curving driveway that looked as if it were about to drop them both off a cliff and into the Pacific. Right at the apex of the slope, he stopped and looked in amazement at the house below. If his last one had looked as if it was about to leap into the waves from its rocky promontory, this one was clawing its way out of the cliffs and dipping its feet in the water. It didn’t look as big as his last place.

“Bear to the left,” Pepper instructed him. “The entrance to the underground is around the side.”

As he drove into the depths of the house, he realised why it looked smaller than it did. Fully half of it was dug into the rocks. Sensible idea for an earthquake zone, he mused, stopping the Audi next to a dusty Aston Martin.

“We salvaged what we could from the workshop,” she told him, getting out of the car. He could have sworn she was favouring her right leg. “The hot rod, unfortunately, was totally destroyed, but we got most of the other equipment out. I’m not sure what is still useable, but Dummy and Butterfingers are ok.”

“The medical chair?”

“We sourced a new one, as although some of the original equipment appeared to be undamaged, we didn’t want to take the chance that it had been compromised.

“Who is this we you keep speaking of?”

“Jarvis and me.” The ‘of course’ was unspoken but he could hear it in her voice.

“Jarvis?” That startled him. For some reason, he hadn’t banked on the AI system working in the new house like it had in the old mansion. On reflection, though, there was no reason he shouldn’t – after all, all that it needed were speakers and a microphone hooking up to the servers.

“Yes sir.” The unseen voice said. “Welcome home. I hope you find it to your liking.”

“You have been busy.” Looking around the new workshop, he saw where things had been laid out to resemble the last one, but the shape of the place was totally different. The cars sat along the short side, with the machining equipment on the far wall. “How do we get up to the main house?”

“This way.”

He followed her, carefully watching how she put her feet down on the grey painted concrete floor. There was a definite limp on her right side, he decided.

“The doors have just been installed,” Pepper was saying, as he dragged his attention from her long legs back to the present. “New code, 65147, until you set it to your liking.” She tapped it in and opened the glass door. Same damned doors as before, Tony noted. The steps curved up to the right, though, which threw him a little.

Not that everything since the plane had touched down hadn’t thrown him so comprehensively off balance that he’d barely spoken two dozen words. And most of those he’d managed to offend Pepper with. She was all bright and brittle, her face hidden by that curtain of hair.

At the top of the stairs, he paused and looked around. It was similar, yet totally different to the old place. Same cream carpet, computer interface on the wall, broad expanse of glass, long sofas facing the LCD tv on the wall. But the curve was different, the ceiling a strange height, the waterfall was conspicuously absent, and the piano was on the wrong side of the stairs.

“Damn,” she paused at the foot of the stairs. “I meant to get you to park outside the front door, so I could get Eliot to bring the bags up.” She sighed.

“I’m quite capable of fetching my own bags,” Tony stopped her as she went to turn back down into the workshop.

“Really?” One blue eye regarded him in surprise, the other hidden behind the sheet of hair. “Jarvis, lights up around the house. Come this way Mr Stark.”

Now she was twisting the knife in his heart. He followed her upstairs on leaden legs, the colour bleeding from his view. The beautiful interior of this new house was now monochrome and he followed her aimlessly, nodding as she showed him the games room, gym, various suites of bedrooms and finally, to his own bedroom at the far end of the top floor, overlooking the dark expanse of ocean. The faintest hint of twilight hung over the horizon but it was no more than a smudge against the darkness.

“Dinner will be served at 8 o’clock,” Pepper informed him, moving to the door.

“Wait, Pepper.” He turned to look at her. “I… how are you?”

“I am fine, thank you.” She gave him a fake smile. “Perfectly fine.”

“Will you be joining me for dinner?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I have some work I need to finish. If that will be all?”

That’ll never be all, Tony thought, nodding slowly. He watched her walk out of the room and felt all the strength go out of his legs. The bed was right behind him and he sat heavily on it. Everything she’d done for him, since he’d gone, was phenomenal. This house, the work she’d put into it, the organisation – it was unbelievable. But she was so cold.

 

Pepper lifted the trunk lid on the Audi and looked at the three large bags. There was no way she could lift those.

“Dummy, come here,” she ordered, and the bot obliged. “Lift those bags and place them in the elevator please.”

Why she bothered to say please to a bot, she could never figure out, but she did and would continue to do so. It was just one of those things. Once all the bags were in the elevator, she locked the car, ensured the access ramp was sealed and journeyed with the bags up to the main floor.

Eliot was waiting for her, and he scooped the three big bags up as if they were no more than pillows.

“Mr Stark’s room please,” she told him. “I’ll be in my office.” The mute man nodded and strode on silent feet towards the stairs.

Her office – now there was a bit of self indulgence. It was half the reason she’d chosen this particular house, which when she actually thought about the huge great long list of prerequisites that a Stark mansion required, was ridiculous. But she’d wanted her own space – after all, she spent nearly as much time here as at the Stark Industries buildings, and even more so now Tony was more Iron Man than CEO. Well, she spent her time with him, she admitted to herself. So where he was, so she was. Even if it did seem like a dozen pieces of him had been lost somewhere in the past month.

Closing the office door, she moved to the desk and picked up the phone. Time to check on one of those pieces.

 

Tony looked up at the knock on his door, but it didn’t open. Puzzled, he stood and answered it. A big, burly man with the meekest expression he’d even seen was stood there with his three bags.

“Are you Eliot?” he asked.

The man nodded.

“Just drop them there,” waving a hand to one side, he turned and moved back to the window. “Where did Pepper find you then?”

There was no reply. Scowling, he looked over his shoulder at the man who just stood there.

“Well?” he prompted.

Eliot pointed to his throat and shook his head.

“You don’t talk?” Tony asked in incredulity. Eliot offered him a small smile. “Good lord, how on earth did Pepper find you?”

Eliot made a move with his hands and it took Tony a moment to realise that it was sign language.

“I don’t understand that,” he said. “Are you deaf and lip reading then?”

Eliot shook his head.

“You can hear me?”

The mute nodded.

“Were you born like that?”

Shake.

“Accident?”

Nod.

“Forces?”

Nod.

“So are you doubling up as a body guard then?”

Nod.

“Driver?”

Nod.

“What do you think to Pepper?”

The man snapped to attention and saluted, bringing the first smile to Tony’s lips in weeks.

“Yeah, I know. That’s everyone’s opinion of her.” He glanced around. “Can you show me where the dining room is?”

 

Tony spent the next week hiding in the basement. His workshop was his sanctuary, and it had been defiled. He used up an inordinate amount of energy just moving furniture around and refusing to take any phone calls whatsoever, unless they were from the Swiss hospital where Rhodey was still lying in a coma.

He took to racing between the new place and the old one, taking inordinate risks clambering around the shell of the old house, ferreting around in the rubble of the old workshop. The hot rod really was beyond saving which enraged him until he had the sudden startling realisation that he’d fairly comprehensively stopped the person who’d done this from ever being able to do it again. All his anger seemed to drain away, and he was left feeling somewhat empty. He’d like to have talked that through with Pepper…

And that thought left him feeling sick. He sat on the wall at the edge of the old access ramp and gazed out over the sullen grey sea. The November sun wasn’t coming out to play today, and the sea was choppy and disgruntled. Kind of how he was feeling. Pepper wasn’t talking to him any more than strictly necessary. She was still doing her job, to absolute perfection, but that rapport they’d had, the witty banter, the cocky come-ons, the brisk put-downs; all gone.

He’d lost her. He’d lost everything. He was taken back to his epiphany on the plane, where he’d admitted to himself, finally, that it was over. There was no going back from this point and anything he did now would be fruitless and pointless and a waste of time and breath. Even all this scurrying around, salvaging bits of the past was Freudian in itself. It wasn’t things he wanted to save from the rubble. It was them. Somewhere, under the mess was that piece of him which had died when the bomb had gone off. Someone had tried to kill him, and in the process, had killed Hogan and very nearly Pepper.

But instead of staying by her as she’d been lying in that operating theatre, he’d abandoned her, climbed into his suit and gone off to destroy half of Eastern Europe. Why? What difference did it make now the perpetrator was dead? Had it really been necessary to almost tear the man limb from limb, along with most of his bodyguards and miniature private army?

Why had he done it? More to the point, how did he undo the harm he had caused?

He couldn’t see a way. She was there, but it was like a sheet of glass had been slipped between them, cutting off all emotion and it was destroying him.

Maybe that bomb had done what it had been designed to do after all. It may not have killed him, but it had ended his life.

He abandoned the remains of his old house and, sliding behind the wheel of the Audi, left it behind for the last time.

~~

Pepper heard the car come screaming up the driveway and hit the bank of switches to her left, turning on the lights and opening the gates. Just in case Tony couldn’t be bothered to wait for the bomb proof screens to lift. She had a whole raft of paperwork that needed signing. Eliot had gone home for the day and it was pretty much the last item on her list.

She’d been avoiding him, she knew that much. Not that she was exactly sure why though. She felt brittle and nervous a lot of the time, and fragile too. And he’d been so distant since his return, not at all the Tony she’d been expecting. After a coup like that, she’d been hoping for a bright, brilliant, exuberant Tony who’d come back and sweep her up and tell her everything was fine and she was safe. Even if he had killed nearly a hundred people to make it that way. Her mind shuddered away from the number and she sighed. She wanted to berate him for it, have him defend his actions with that cocky grin and make some comment about her ass in these trousers…

It was there her brave front crumbled. There would be no more corny jibes at the shortness of her skirts or the plunging nature of her shirts. No sly fingers removing the pins from her hair to watch it tumble down around her face when she was trying to concentrate on something. It was long trousers and suit jackets for her now. And this hairstyle, which she loathed, covered what she needed it to do. No more tying back or up or curling when down – it would just be this way, and that was how it had to be.

Gathering up her courage and the papers, she headed down into the workshop, where the driver of the Audi was peering under the engine hatch and muttering to himself.

“Break it?” she asked lightly, and he turned to her with the ghost of a smile.

“Not quite. These things need driving like that once in a while.”

“Every 24 hours or so, then.” She placed the sheaf of papers on the desk and reached into her inside pocket for a pen. “Can I have a couple of signatures please?”

“Sure.” He shut the lid of the Audi and dusted his hands off on his trousers. “What for?”

She ran through the list of things, her voice becoming mechanical and monotone. He wasn’t looking at her, studying the papers intently as she explained each one in turn. Gone were the days when he’d just sign anything because it was her who’d put it in front of him.

Nodding, he took the pen from her, noting the faint tremor in her fingers and setting his jaw because of it. She didn’t even want to be near him, he knew that now. She did her job, just her job and nothing else.

His extrovert signature was more compact these days and he felt like he was crumbling in on himself as he put his name to each document, bar one. He ripped it down the middle and dropped it in the bin.

“I’ll go speak with the board directly about that,” he told her, watching her hands gather up the papers. Was that a scar over the back of the right one? He looked closer, and she snatched the last of the papers up, hugging them to her chest and hiding her right hand with her left.

“Will that be all, Mr Stark?”

No, he wanted to plead. No it wasn’t all, couldn’t she see he was dying inside without her?

“Yes, thank you Miss Potts.”

She fled.

Tony watched her departure in complete bleak despair. She was even running away from him now. How long before she abandoned him completely?

He had to tell her, he decided. There was nothing left now, no pride to wound, no hope to have dashed, no reason not to explain everything to her. She couldn’t hurt him any more than he already did. And maybe telling her would exorcise some of these demons he had inside. The whys and the wherefores and the brilliant, insane reasoning why he’d done so many of the things he had. And maybe, once Pepper knew, she would understand. Not forgive, that much he was certain of, because not even Pepper had the ability to forgive him for what he’d done, but if she could just understand, maybe she wouldn’t leave and he could sleep again. A little.

 

He went by way of the kitchen, digging out a bottle of her favourite dry white wine. He collected a couple of glasses and the corkscrew and found his way to her office, cleverly hidden behind an invisible door in the corner of the living room. It was marginally ajar though, which told him she was there. Even if it was gone 7pm on a Friday night.

“Knock knock Potts,” he said, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

Startled, Pepper spun around; but away from him. Her hand was against the side of her face and a small beige bottle stood open on the desk.

“Yes Mr Stark?” she asked, mortified.

“I – I need to speak to you,” he said, his voice cracking as he realised what she was doing. “But you don’t need to hide from me, Pepper.”

“I am not hiding,” she snapped, reaching out with her left hand and scooping up the small bottle. Flicking the lid closed, she dropped it in her desk drawer and shook her hair back across her cheeks. “Now, what can I do for you?”

He placed the bottle and glasses on her desk and sank into the big leather sofa that sat against one wall.

“I need… I’d like you…” he couldn’t get the words out and closed his eyes for a moment. “I have to talk to you Pepper.”

She took that moment to smooth her hand over her cheek and jawline, just to ensure that there were no tell tale streaks of the concealing makeup showing. She was embarrassed at being caught applying the stuff but his reaction wasn’t what she’d expected at all. Hide from him? She gazed at him, unsure, watching those deep dark chocolate brown eyes open and noticing the pain in them for the first time. Was it the reactor, she wondered. He did seem short of breath.

“Are you okay Tony?” she asked, standing.

“No.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting either.

“What’s wrong?” She hovered where she was though, torn between wanting to comfort him, and fearing being rebuffed. “The reactor?”

He drew a hand down his face, unable to find the right place to begin.

“The reactor is fine,” he sighed. “Potts, come, sit here.” He patted the seat to the left of him.

“No, Tony, I can’t.” That would put her right side closest to him.

“Pepper.” He gazed up at her, a world of pain and anguish marring his normally handsome features. “Please.”

“I – no.” She ducked her head away.

“Potts, I have my own share of scars,” he told her softly. “Some visible, some not. Come and sit next to me. Please.”

Shaking, she moved around the desk on unsteady legs and perched primly on the edge of the sofa, looking resolutely ahead so the curtain of hair swung across her cheek.

When he took her hand, she nearly leapt out of her skin.

Tony studied the back of her right hand, letting his finger traced the angry pink scarring that started in the gap next to her little finger and traced in a jagged line across the back and up inside her sleeve.

“I remember this stage,” he murmured, his thumb gossamer light on the fresh new skin. “The tingling, the almost unbearable itching, the way that the slightest touch stings with a fire that feels like it goes down to the bone.”

Pepper’s breath caught in the back of her throat. She sat frozen as Tony slipped the jacket off her shoulders and shivered as he dropped it on the floor. Her blouse had three quarter sleeves and he inspected the intermittent patches on her forearm, pushing the sleeve up slightly to see the faint tracks of the surgeon’s needle.

“Shattered humerus?”

She nodded.

“From being hit by the door. Daimler doors weigh nearly as much as an average small car.”

“Especially bullet proof ones,” he agreed. Gently kissing the back of her hand, he stood and moved to the desk to pour the wine. “Here.”

“I can’t drink that-”

“Yes you can. I need to talk to you Pepper, and I need you to listen to me, please, until I’ve got it all out, and then you can throw what’s left in that glass all over me, or shoot me with that little automatic you’ve got strapped under the desk.” Pepper gasped. “Or you can just walk out, although I’m going to be hoping and praying that you don’t do that.”

She accepted the glass, and took a large swallow to try and calm her shaking hands.

“I’m listening,” she said softly.

Tony nodded, sipping at the wine. His eyes stared off into the distance as he tried to formulate his approach. The silence stretched, until he couldn’t bear it any more. Draining the glass, he dropped to his knees in front of her, put her wine on the floor and gathered both her hands up in his.

“I love you Pepper,” he said, eyes tightly closed. He rested his forehead on their hands and took a deep shuddering breath. “I adore you, and have for a long time. Everything I’ve done, since the moment that bomb went off, I’ve done because of you.”

Pepper’s mouth was working, but no sound came out. Tony’s eyes were still closed and his words started to spill out of his mouth, his tongue tripping as his genius came up with them quicker than he could speak.

“For the first half an hour, I didn’t know if you were dead or alive, and it felt like someone had ripped my heart out and thrown it in the fire, still beating. It was the reactor that was keeping me upright. And then Hogan was found, dead, and there was a Daimler wheel a block away, the hood two blocks in the other direction. It was only when they told me you were in an ambulance, heading to the General that I think I breathed again. Then the threats came in, empty words promising certain death to me and all I cared for – it was then I realised that they’d already done that, killed me by nearly destroying the only person I cared for, and I saw red. I came home, put the suit on and went. Rhodey followed, and you know most of what happened next.”

The fights, the red and gold terror that had stalked Eastern Europe for weeks and weeks. Jarvis had organised the shipping out of the fully equipped Iron Man plane to Zagreb in Pepper’s absence and Rhodey had insisted on donning the Mk4. Mainly to watch his friend’s ass, as Tony was past caring for his own personal safety. Ironic, then, that it was Rhodey who’d nearly bought it in the skies above Slovenia.

“I know you can never forgive me. That I was an ass even before that bomb blew the Daimler over four city blocks, and that it was my actions over the last few years which led to that moment, and to you getting hurt.”

“Tony…”

“Listen to me Pepper, please. Let me finish.”

“Okay.” Her voice was faint and breathy and he couldn’t look at her.

“I love you. If I could have done anything different to stop that bomb, I would have done. The ironic thing is, I should have been getting into that car in front of you, but I was throwing a spoilt brat tantrum in the laboratory and had refused to come with you. Why? By the grace of which deity was it that I was spared and you were hurt?” Abruptly, his eyes snapped open and he gazed up into her stunned face. “You mean everything to me. Without you, I am nothing. I am just a spoilt rich kid with too many brains and too much money and not enough conscience. I’m an empty shell.”

She reached out to touch his face with a shaking hand and he clasped it to his cheek.

“Pepper, I have nothing left. My best friend – my only friend – is in a coma. My parents are dead. You were the only thing I had, and I feel like I’ve lost you, pushed you away. I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away from me and never even looked back, but I’m asking you, begging you, not to go. My life would fall apart without you here, and I know you probably can’t even look at me without loathing everything I am and everything I stand for, but I need you. I love you, and don’t deserve you, and never will. What I did was inexcusable. And I only did it to fill this great gaping hole inside me that I wanted to fill with you, but they hurt you and it just consumed me. I know it’ll probably take me my whole life to try and make this right, to make it up to you, but I’ll try. I promise I’ll try.”

Tears were streaming down Pepper’s face and it twisted the knife in his chest to an almost unbearable point.

“I never wanted you to cry, Pepper,” he whispered, feeling his eyes prickle with moisture. “Please, don’t cry.” He moved onto the sofa and took her in his arms, feeling her weep against his shoulder as his own tears began to flow.

Great racking sobs shook her slender body as Tony rocked her gently, desperately wanting to take all her pain away, to absorb the hurt and the sting of fresh scars, the ache of newly healed bones and to live the hell that she had been through. Tears streamed down his own face, for the first time in more years than he could count and he buried his face in her sweetly scented hair, murmuring her name over and over.

“Pepper, I love you, don’t cry. Oh, Pepper, please. Tell me what I can do, how I begin to try and fix it, Pepper. Please don’t leave me.”

She clung to him, her arms tight around his waist and her face bare inches from the glowing reactor. This couldn’t be Tony, her fragile mind thought distractedly. Was this honestly her Tony, the man she had loved for so long, crying with her, holding her so close and so gentle? Slowly, slowly, her tears ran their course and she lifted her streaked face to look up at him.

“Why would I ever leave you?” she asked, her voice breaking. “I have only ever wanted you.”

His jaw dropped. Her big blue eyes were red rimmed, and her tears had washed the concealing makeup from the shiny pink skin down the right hand side of her face; but she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. And to hear her say those words…

“Me?” he asked gruffly. “Why would you want me Pepper? I’m a selfish egomaniac who has done nothing but make your life hell for the past eight years.”

“Maybe.” From somewhere, she felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “But I wouldn’t change a thing. I would rather have had those eight years of hell with you, than to have led a boring, easy life without you. And they weren’t all hell.” She lifted a hand and wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “We’ve had a lot of fun.”

He nodded, aware of a slowly growing knot of hope in his chest that was so intense it was physically painful.

“So, you aren’t leaving?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Tony, I’m not leaving. I promise.”

He looked for the words, but they weren’t there anymore. She wasn’t leaving him. She was staying. It was like the sun had just risen again and he was suddenly aware that her office was a warm, snug place full of rich colours and beautiful paintings. He tucked her hair behind her ears and caught her cheeks between his palms to study her face.

Pepper suddenly realised he was staring at her and she tried to twist out of his grasp, to move the curtain of hair back into place.

“No, Pepper, don’t.” His voice was firm and strong now, the knowledge that she wasn’t abandoning him giving him his conviction back. “Hush.”

“But it’s awful.” She closed her eyes, unable to cope with the idea he was looking at her hideously disfigured face.

“No, it’s not,” he contradicted. Gentle fingers traced the edge of the scarring that went from the corner of her right eye down to her jaw and back to her ear. It matched the angry colour of the skin on her hand and arm, but Tony knew enough about scars to see how it was fading and healing. “It’s just a little pink. It will fade.”

“How can you look at me?” she asked, a world of desolation in the question. “It’s so ugly.”

“Pepper, open your eyes.”

Unwillingly, she did so, and found herself looking into tormented brown eyes.

“It’s not ugly,” he said softly. “Because underneath it lays the most beautiful person in the world. My worst scars are on the inside. I’m ugly beneath what everyone sees. And that’s so much harder to live with.”

“You aren’t ugly…” she began, but he cut her off.

“The things I’ve done over the years,” he explained. “The spoilt brat, the tantrums, the excessive consumption of alcohol, cars, women, money. The blithe distribution of weapons and bombs and guns that have destroyed innocent lives. And the way I’ve systematically, yet ignorantly, done my best to push you away. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life.”

“Even looking like this?” She managed to pull her head from of his hands and shook the curtain of hair over her cheek.

“Especially like that.” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “It’s my fault you got those scars. You took the blast that was meant for me. I owe you my life.”

She’d not thought about it that way.

“But…”

“No buts, Pepper. You mean everything to me.”

She was gazing up into his eyes, watching every nuance of emotion flicker across his handsome face and for a long moment, she wondered if she were dreaming this. His deep chocolate eyes held hers, and there were no more words. Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted slightly.

Tony couldn’t resist the invitation. Very gently, he allowed his mouth to brush against hers, hardly daring to believe that this was happening. This was the last thing he’d expected from this evening. Her lips were soft beneath his and the kiss very quickly turned fierce. Crushing her up in his arms, he felt every ounce of desperation he’d kept bottled up pour out.

Pepper was feeling the same intensity of emotion. The hours of agonising loneliness in the hospital, the pain and anguish of not knowing if he were alive or dead for days at a time; it all came bubbling up and she felt like she was drowning in him, never wanting to come up for air. Her slender arms wound around his neck, pulling him as close as she could get him.

His hands moved to her hips, lifting her up and astride him. She settled on his lap with a little moan in the back of her throat that went straight to his groin and he felt himself buck up against her slightly. His fingers moved to the buttons on her blouse, dropping the pale blue cotton in a heap on the floor next to her jacket as he unclipped her bra and threw it unceremoniously after the blouse. He let his mouth travel from hers down her neck, so gentle against the taut pink skin and across her shoulder where the signs of the surgeon’s needle highlighted the rest of the compound fracture. From there, it was a small step to take one of her dusky nipples into his mouth and Pepper gasped for air as the jolt of electricity connected his teasing tongue to her now molten insides. Tony splayed his fingers across her back to hold her still and he could feel her trembling in his arms.

The office wasn’t the place for this, he suddenly decided. Pepper hardly had time to protest before he’d pushed her from his lap, stood up and scooped her up into his arms in a fraction over a second. Silencing the question he could see in her eyes with his mouth, he kissed her hungrily. It took him a moment to get his bearings once out of the office – he still wasn’t completely sure about this new house. Heading for the stairs with not quite a quarter of his attention on where he was putting his feet, he carried Pepper up the broad sweeping stairs and down the long corridor to his room.

“Jarvis, secure house,” he growled, kicking the door shut behind me. “Divert all calls to messaging, and don’t let anyone disturb us before noon tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“Tony,” Pepper managed to get a protest out as he placed her on the edge of his huge bed.

“What?” He was kneeling before her, unbuckling the stunning heels that she wore. That much hadn’t changed, he thought with an inward smile.

“I – I don’t know.” She hugged herself, but he was instantly aware that she was covering her arm, not her partial nudity. “I don’t know if I can…”

Throwing the second shoe after the first, Tony stood and stripped his shirt and trousers off. Standing before her, he held his arms out to the side.

“What’s the first thing you notice about me, Pepper?” he asked. Glancing down at the front of his boxers, he offered her a cheeky grin. “Apart from the obvious?”

She couldn’t help it – she laughed. The sound buoyed his spirits enormously and he laughed with her. It was the first laugh he’d heard from her since the day before the bomb.

“Um, apart from that?” She eyed his shorts appraisingly and felt a blush rise up her neck. Still giggling, she looked up at his face. “Seriously? Your eyes.”

Tony had to swallow hard to stop the sudden lump in his throat from choking him. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting her to say.

“Not this?” He touched the reactor, his arms falling back down by his sides. “It is kind of in your face.”

“It’s just part of you now.” She reached down and picked up his shirt, wrapping it around her shoulders. “It’s not the first thing I look at when I see you.”

It wasn’t quite the way he’d worked this bit out, but if anything, it was better.

“So you don’t see these?” He knelt in front of her and pointed to the network of scars around the reactor.

“Only if I specifically look for them.”

“And these?” He indicated the marks on his arms and neck that she’d never really noticed before.

“They’re so faded…” Belatedly, she realised what he was doing. She looked from him to her arm and back again. “But mine are so much bigger.”

“Don’t brag, Pepper, it’s not nice.” His tone was so much the old Tony Stark that she couldn’t help but bite back.

“Since when was being nice in my contract?”

He chuckled, a rich, deep contented sound and there was a light in his warm brown eyes that made her smile too.

“You know what I see when I look at you, Pepper?” he asked her, removing his shirt from her shoulders and pushing her back on the bed. With a squeak, she found herself lying down as his dexterous fingers unbuttoned her suit pants and slid them off. “I see the most beautiful woman in the world. I see someone with a heart of gold, nerves of steel and an ass that could start wars.” He pressed a kiss to her belly and stretched out on the bed beside her. She still wore her underwear and he was allowing her to keep it on for the moment, both to give her a small measure of comfort and stop himself from being completely distracted. “I don’t focus on any one specific part. Unless I’m hyper-focussing,” he added with a murmur, brushing his lips across her chest with feather light kisses. “I just see the whole that is Pepper. The delicious, sassy, smart mouthed, intelligent, beautiful, bossy Pepper that I… just... adore…” his voice tailed off as his mouth followed the line of her sternum down across her belly and to the very edge of her small white panties.

Pepper’s eyes were closed, her breath coming in short gasps as Tony gave in to the urge to slide that scrap of white material off and continue his exploration of her. He didn’t do what she half expected him to though, because his lips moved from her belly to her hip bone, before starting to kiss the entire length of her scarred right leg.

The blast had thrown her so hard against the side of the building that, coupled with being hit by the Daimler door, she had dislocated her hip and knee, and broken her ankle in a dozen places. The scarring was a combination of healing burns, shrapnel wounds and the hairline marks of the surgeon’s scalpel. Tony kissed it all better, right down to the small bump on her ankle bone.

And then, he worked his way back up the inside of her leg, not stopping for a moment when he ran out of scars.

Pepper felt herself melting into the softness of the bed as that wondrous, miraculous mouth left a trail of burning desire across her entire body. She was shaking, every nerve ending afire with need and want, and as his lips brushed against her parted ones, she seized his head in both hands, kissing him hungrily.

He covered her body with his, gently settling himself with infinite care, unwilling to risk hurting her any more for even a fraction of a second. In spite of the intense need he felt, he still knew exactly what he was doing.

Pepper showed no such restraint. As his weight gradually pinned her to the bed, she lifted her legs to lock them about his hips.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned, feeling her move beneath him. A breathy giggle was the only answer he got before she dug her nails into his muscular backside. That was all the encouragement he needed to possess her entirely. Pepper’s aroused mind promptly fused at that sensation and she gave herself up completely to the man above her.

At some point, Tony gave up conscious thought too, as they moved together with one mind and one goal, perfectly matched and forever linked.

In the quiet, pre-dawn hours, when neither slept but each dozed quietly not wanting to wake the other, it was Tony who spoke first, whispering so softly that Pepper only just heard him.

“I love you Potts,” he murmured, breathing in the warm musky scent of her. “I still think I’m going to wake up tomorrow, cold and alone and find this has all been a dream. But I would do anything for you.”

Pepper tilted her head back from where it was pillowed on his shoulder and smiled at him. The glow of the reactor made her eyes sparkle blue and he marvelled at how she could still look so serene and beautiful after the past couple of hours of such intense emotional stress and physical activity.

“You won’t ever wake up alone again,” she told him, letting one finger trace a circle around the reactor. “Unless you decide to fall asleep in the workshop again.”

He chuckled and gathered her up into his arms, holding her close, loving the feel of her, the scent of her; the fact that somehow, despite all the odds and the hell they’d both been through, they were here, together, in this new house, in a new bed. And he loved her.

**Author's Note:**

> Another lurking fic, written several years ago and prompted by a song. But it's not all doom and gloom - I'm constitutionally incapable of writing anything other than happy endings. Even if I do put them through the mill to get there.
> 
> And yes, this ends up the fluffiest of the fluffy fluff that ever was. So sue me - it was where I was a couple of years ago and just happened.


End file.
